A Glimpse
by ThePandoricaWillOpen
Summary: Snippet's throughout the series that delve into the minds on Starsky and Hutch and their relationship with one another. (Complete)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Shootout

**Season, Episode:** Season One; Episode 14

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

"Hey, buddy, look what I got," Hutch said approaching Starsky and kneeling down on the floor next to him. He inserted the clip into the gun feeling its weight in his hand.

"Last go-around, huh?" Starsky asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah." Hutch clutched at the gun, his fingers tensing at the thought that this might be in fact the last go should it not go according to plan. "From what I understand this things is liable to go off in my face as anything."

"Well, you always did want an excuse to get your teeth capped," Starsky tells Hutch with a smile. Hutch chuckles, keeping an ear out for anything that was happening outside the little room where Starsky was being kept in. "What's wrong, partner?"

"You know something?" Hutch asked. "You look terrible."

Hutch turns to Theresa giving her instructions. Starsky heard the words distraction before his vision got blurry from all the blood loss. He began to sway to the side, his arms twitching uncomfortably, his body beginning to numb. Already, his hands and feet were cold and he, if he had the strength to, would rub his hands together to get at least a little bit of blood to his extremities.

Eyes dropping, Starsky looked over at his partner. He really was brave, he thought. His plan was a long shot, especially with the gun he'd gotten from the waitress. But it was Hutch and he had a way about him that made Starsky feel better with a simple smile. Plus, Hutch's plan had never backfired before.

"Hey Hutch, hey," Starsky called out. Hutch crouches back next to Starsky, their shoulders touching. Starsky welcomed the touch, it meant he wasn't dead yet.

"Yeah?"

"Come here," Starsky said. "I wanna tell you somethin'."

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding and sending a chill down his spine as his shoulder touched the back of the couch he sat against. "I was just kidding about the teeth."

A moment later and he felt Hutch's forehead against his. I must be sweaty, he thought as Hutch pulled back and Starsky felt a cold spot where Hutch's forehead once was.

"See ya," Starsky muttered out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Death in a Different Place

**Season, Episode:** Season 3; Episode 6

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

Hutch took a deep breath, watching his partner through his rearview window. Starsky was reading the newspaper, his legs out in front of him, almost out of the car. He looked as comfortable as ever, a relaxed side of him that Hutch hadn't seen since they taken John's case a few days ago.

"Starsky," Hutch said, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Would you consider that a man who spends seventy-five per cent of his time with another man has got certain _tendencies_?"

"Seventy-five – you mean three-quarters?" Starsky replied without putting his paper down.

Hutch rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Yeah. Sure. Why not?" Starsky sat up, his hand coming up to Hutch's shoulder to pull himself upright. "You mean that was the case between John and…"

"No." He took a deep breath. "No, that's the case between you and me."

Hutch saw Starsky's brows creasing together in confusion. "What?!"

"Well, figure it out." Hutch told him. He had done this math a long time ago, too long for his liking. It was too true that they spent most of their days together and, even as cops, that was slightly peculiar. "In a five-day week, there are about eighty waking hours, right?"

"Yeah."

"We work, eat, and drink about twelve of those hours, right?" Hutch saw it then, the look on Starsky's face as he nodded. Mouth gaped, the hand on his shoulder tense and those dark eyes horrified. It was then that Hutch, breathing slowly from nerves, decided it was not the right time for this. Starsky couldn't take it. "That's sixty hours a week, seventy-five per cent of the time we spend together and you're not even a good kisser."

"How do you know that?"

Hutch smiled thinly, Starsky wasn't ready fro the truth, not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **The Fix

**Season, Episode:** Season 1; Episode 5

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

(Part One)

His gun hung on the wardrobe door and Hutch was gone. But I don't worry because I figure he's gone to see his new foxy lady and didn't want his piece to scare her off or something so I go to her place. But no one answers and that's when I start to get worried. I go back to Hutch's, looking for any clues as to where he might have gone. I got no call from him, no memo saying he was going out. He usually told me everywhere he went, always trying to stop my 'philandering ways' as he calls my nights and insists that I join him. I always decline but I always knew where he was, a habit of his he wasn't intent on breaking.

Until know it seemed. And that's when I knew it. I didn't need any confirmation; he was gone and not on his own freewill. It might have been a leap but, knowing Hutch and his never changing ways, I knew it must have been a leap to the truth.

Immediately, I return to the precinct to tell Dobey probably breaking a few laws as I do. I run out of my car, up the stairs and through the hall as if I'm late for my own wedding and burst into the Captain's office. He drops some papers he'd been holding and takes in a deep breath, ready to yell at me for no knocking or something but I beat him to it.

"He's gone, Cap'n."

"Who's gone? And why'd you have to burst in here like a madman?!" Dobey yells.

I ignore him, coming around to the front of his desk and leaning forward to show him how serious I was. Hutch is missing and no one is laughing, especially not me. I tell him what I found when I went to his home

"I tell ya, he's gone," I insist for what seems like the hundredth time.

"No, he isn't. He's off on a date with a beautiful girl, to use your words."

"Captain, you don't understand," I shake my head in frustration. Why doesn't he get it?

"What do you mean I don't understand?"

"I found his gun back in his apartment," I say as if that proved the misteries of the world.

"Do you take your gun out with you when you go on a date?"

"Hutch wouldn't visit his mother without his gun!" I exclaim briefly recalling the last time we visited the Hutchinson family home.

"All right, Starsky, settle down." Dobey finally says. I sit down, waiting for something to spring into action inside the large man who, until now, didn't believe me. "What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know," I admit.

Dobey: What do you know about that girl?

"I know her name, I know where she lives."

"And?"

"I can't find her either," I say with a sigh. Where could she have gone? They wouldn't just skedaddle out of town, would they?

"Well," Dobey says after a long pause. "What do you want to do about it?

Finally, I think. "Missing persons?"

"That's a missing officer," he points out as I stand.

"No, I mean missing partner," I tell him, one hand on the door. I ain't leaving until that APB is said over every single police radio in the city!

With a last look at me, the Captain picks up his phone and says into it, "Dobey here. I want an APB on Kenneth Hutchinson, Detective."

* * *

(Part Two)

I drive down the alley the officer pointed to and see a uni standing over a hunched over man on the floor. I recognize the uniformed man as Bernie, a casual acquaintance. He is leaning over a twitching Hutch. I run to his side the moment I recognize that blonde head of his.

"Hutch, you crazy…" I mutter into his sweaty head as I pull him into an embrace.

"He's your partner, isn't he?" Bernie asks, confused.

"Yeah." I grab him by the shoulder, looking right into his bruised eye and seeing the tall-tale signs of a junkie. I roll up his sleeve and there, in plain sight, is my confirmation, needle marks on his pale white skin. I swallow, biting my teeth together to keep in my reaction to this monstrosity, already thinking of ways to make the bastards who did this pay.

"My God. He's a junkie!" Bernie exclaims, taking a step back.

Hutch falls into my lap as I look up at Bernie and say, "Shut up, huh? I'll handle it." I fall back onto the alley wall, pulling Hutch alone and letting him rest between my legs and put his head on my chest. I feel his beating heart and heavy breathing against my skin.

"I gotta make a report," the officer reminds me.

I grab Bernie and say, "No report. This didn't happen, Bernie. Understand? This. Didn't. Happen." Bernie nods. "I'll take responsibility." He nods again and I release him. "Thanks. Give me a hand." Together we drag a twitching and fumbling Hutch to his feet and slowly carry him to my car. "Come on, Hutch. Come on. Up."

* * *

(Part Three)

My blood burned as it moved through my veins, setting them on fire, which then set my skin on fire making me feel like one giant walking flame. I heart beat faster than I thought possible, the sound a steady reminder of my mortality as it beat in my ears as I laid down, sat up or did anything at all. My eyes, when I had the strength to open them, burned from the lack of light I had gotten used to. My body thirst for something that I knew I couldn't have, I _shouldn't_ have, need or even want. It begged for it until finally, even with the help of Starsky and Huggy, I broke.

I knew what I was doing, I saw it happen and yet I couldn't stop myself from almost hitting Starsky and smashing the small room he'd gotten for my detox. I knew it was all in the down low; he wouldn't want this to spread to the rest of the department and get on my permanent record. This was not something an officer should have in his file. And I also knew that, if we were found out, it would not go only on my record but his and Dobey's too. IA was a bitch that put the blame on every officer in other departments it could to make their office look like the Vatican. But I appreciated their hard work, even if I was twitching like a madman and begging for dope.

"Please, Starsk," I pleaded. "I need some… I nee _it_!"

"I'm sorry, Hutch," Starsky replied, grabbing me by the arms and pulling me away from the door… again. "I can't and you know it too."

"B-but I-I it h-hurts, Starsk, it hurts so bad… I need it badly! You don't know how bad!"

"I know you, buddy, and I know that if I go out there and get you som', you'll never forgive me or yourself. Just lay down and it'll pass. I'm right here."

I fell asleep with my head on his lap and his hands gently touching my head.

* * *

The End.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Moonshine

**Season, Episode:** Season 4, Episode 5

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

Moonshine

Starsky is drunk. Not just drunk but _very_ drunk. The bootleg he is drinking is going right through him and going straight for his brain. Many times, whilst throwing his head back and drinking shots of the stuff, I had to stop a wondering hand from fondling me in public. I like this side of Starsky, not that I would admit it to my drunken partner once he sobered up.

This Starsky is more… relaxed than he has been since our long time friend, John Blaine, turned out to be gay. This Starsky is more open with his feelings, more like I am, as he says. Of the duo, Starsky is the more closed off, the one who would only give people glimpses into his mind (unless angered, then the volcano hidden under that unruly curly hair would erupt and then everyone was screwed). Only I was privy into his thought without restrictions, or so I'd thought. Me and thee, he said some many times over the years that I'd begun to believe it.

But since Blaine… he became distant. I've known him for nearly eight years and he's never acted this way. I don't know if it was me - asking if men who spent most of their time together had certain 'tendencies' - who made him this way. He knew what I was speaking off; he's not stupid, he understood what I implied about our own relationship. Hell, we act like a married couple already, something that most guys at the precinct made fun of us for. It wasn't like I was asking if he as in love with me. That topic wasn't something I wanted to get into.

And yet, that's what made us a good match as partners. We just _know_ when something is up by a simple cocked eyebrow or quirk of lips. We _know _each other so well that we can just _tell_ if something is up. Sometimes we can even tell without even seeing one another. It was a good partnership that no one, no matter who tried, could destroy.

It seemed to deteriorate after that, however. Starsky became distant, quiet and closed off to a point that I, aggravated, gave up. I became snappy, I know I did and I felt bad about it most of the time. If Starsky gave up, I thought, then so should I. Why continue pretending that I am someone who I am not? Why pretend to be like everyone expects me to be? If my best friend can't accept who I am, then no one will. Although, thinking about it, he doesn't know who I really am. He, like the rest, only sees whom I want them to see.

And, as the ten-gallon hat wearing men leave the bar, I allow a little part of the true me escape as my faithful partner's traveling hand makes his way to my thigh once more. I don't stop it this time; I welcome it. When his hand makes contact, I bite my lower lip and wait. Soon the wandering hand is gone and with it a glimpse into my own thought. I lean on the bar, waving the bartender over and present my badge.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Closet

**Season, Episode: **(don't remember... anyone know?)

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

"Now, I want you to tell me everything that comes into your mind when I say the word…" I take a deep breath and say, "Closet."

"Closet?" Starsky asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Closet," I confirm, nodding slightly. I wait, watching Starsky take deep breaths, eager to hear what his wonderfuly strange brain will make his mouth spew out. I already know, having had this conversation with myself many times, what I would say if given the word closet. Denial, fright, and Starsky – just to name a few things.

"Closet…" A pause. "Month balls…" A long pause followed by the twitching of his nose. "Stuffy… dark… an overcoat…" Starsky begins to smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides as his eyes rummage inside his closed eyelids seeing whatever it was he was remembering. "It's my eight birthday, I'm hiding from my father… Uh, heavy foot steps... I'm trapped, he's getting loser." Starsky opens his eyes.

"What?" I murmur out with curiosity. "What?"

"I just thought of something terrible," he says, his hands twisting together in his lap. He looks down, then at me and down again.

"Starsky, that's terrific," I tell him softly. "That's wonderful, talk about it! Spit it out!"

"You know," Starsky says not quite looking at me. "I don't think it's somethin' you wanna hear."

"Look," I say, "the whole point of this exercise is to cleanse yourself, get things thing out and talk about them. It's the only way it works." And maybe then you'll see what I see, I add in my mind.

"Sure you won't hold it against me?" he asks still looking at his hands and avoiding my gaze. He sounds like a small child asking his mother for ice cream money because he lost him.

"Absolutely not," I assure him with a pat on the back. "It won't leave this room."

"You remember when I was holding your new Buddy Holly album in my left hand and the pizza in my right hand?"

"Right."

"Or was it the pizza in my left hand and the album in my left?" He pauses and I begin to realize that not only has he not found out the truth but he has ruined my signed only-six-in-existence Buddy Holly album. "One of them is in the oven…"

"Doesn't smell like the pizza, does it?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Starsky Vs. Hutch

**Season, Episode: **Season 4; Episode 21 :(

**Rating:** T

**Note:** No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.

**Snippet**

* * *

"Look, um…" Hutch rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them from trembling. He knew what he was going to say; he had practiced his 'speech' on the ride over to Starsky's place. But now, watching how relaxed his partner was, how cheery and happy he seemed, it threw Hutch off. "I just… I thought we might work out whatever problems - "

"There's no problem," Starsky said putting the newspaper Hutch had brought down on the table by him. He crossed his arms and looked somewhere behind Hutch, not meeting his eyes. "Not anymore."

"Well there was yesterday," Hutch said.

There was a small pause. Starsky's eyes looked down to Hutch's shirt, still not looking directly at him as he said, "I was jealous."

Hutch looked at Starsky, finally getting a look at those deep blue eyes and smiled. He chuckled lightly, not believing what he was hearing. Although Starsky hadn't elaborated about whom he was jealous off, Hutch's felt his blood race. Was Starsky jelous of Hutch's attention towards Kira or the other way around?

"You were jealous, huh?" Hutch stopped smiling when Starsky dropped his gaze. "You're not jealous anymore?"

"No," Starsky responded.

Hutch looked down at the floor. His breathed slowed as he asked, "How come?"

He held his breathe as Starsky answered, "I had to deal with how Kira and I felt about each other."

"How's that?" Hutch slide on the countertop, getting a little closer to his partner and bit the inside of his cheek.

"I love her," Starsky said.

"You what?!"

"I love her."

Hutch turned away, blinking as he processed this new titbit of information. It wasn't like you were expecting him to say he loves you, Hutchinson, he told himself. "She loves you, huh?" Hutch asked, biting his lip.

"Yeah," came the reply from Starsky.

"Have you told her that?"

"Well… not in so many words but…" Starsky reached over to Hutch and brushed something off his sleeve. Hutch felt his touch, felt his warm hand brifly be touched by Starsky's but never took his eyes off the man. He was sure, would the touch lasted just a second longer, Starsky would have felt his hand shaking. "… You know."

Hutch had enough. He pushed away from the counter without another glance at Starsky. He said over his shoulder as he left, "Well, I got a lot of work to catch up on. I'll hook up with you later."

He heard Starsky say, "Thanks for dropping by," just as he reached the door.


End file.
